


the last ones standing

by Tiny_Dragongirl



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, First Kiss, Getting Together, Romance, but sort of post-canon apocalypse, implied bedsharing, smiling too hard kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiny_Dragongirl/pseuds/Tiny_Dragongirl
Summary: “They’re unbelievable,” Daisy sighs, shaking her head a little, and Tom can only nod in agreement because she is right. In the last year the world has changed a lot, and ever since the still raging zombie apocalypse has started, they have learnt to believe a lot of improbable things— and yet, their parents’ stubbornness seems to be the only fixed point in time and space. “I mean, they’re the last people on Earth, kinda literally, and they still won’t admit their feelings.”“Yeah. Unbelievable.”
Relationships: Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45
Collections: Kisses Bingo





	the last ones standing

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [if we were the last](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866060) by [lauraxtennant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraxtennant/pseuds/lauraxtennant). 



“They’re unbelievable,” Daisy sighs, shaking her head a little, and Tom can only nod in agreement because she is right. In the last year the world has changed a lot, and ever since the still raging zombie apocalypse has started, they have learnt to believe a lot of improbable things— and yet, their parents’ stubbornness seems to be the only fixed point in time and space. “I mean, they’re the last people on Earth, kinda literally, and they still won’t admit their feelings.”

“Yeah. Unbelievable.”

  
  
  


Ellie finally makes a decision and picks the harpoon as today’s weapon when Hardy wanders into their so-called kitchen. He looks about as fresh and well-rested as if a zombie had spat him out after munching on him for a few hours. Or days.

“Where is Daisy and Tom?”

“Sent them to practice broken bone treatment.”

Hardy grunts. “Tell me there aren’t actual broken bones involved.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Ellie asks, using her well-practiced mum voice, adeptly ignoring Hardy’s sarcasm.

“I can’t sleep.” On autopilot, Hardy takes out two mugs and searches for tea bags—only to stop mid-motion as he takes in Ellie’s fully equipped status. “Where are you going?”

“Patrolling. I’m picking up Fred on the way home.”

“Where is Fred?”

“With Maggie and Jocelyn—it’s school day, remember? I think they have a reading lesson today.”

“Aye.”

“You really should try to sleep.”

“I _can’t_ , Miller.” With a sigh, he rubs his eyes, then reaches for a knife. “I’m coming with you.”

“Oh, no, Hardy. You’re not going to waste our best bread knife on a zombie.”

“Fine.” He takes the oar from the corner. “Happy now?”

“Very.”

They leave their assigned shelter in silence and head for the backgate of the town. It’s Nigel’s turn at the gate, and, after asking Ellie about the kids, he lets them out. For a while, they tread carefully, looking out for signs of nearby zombie activity. Although Ellie tries to focus solely on their surroundings, she can’t help sneaking glances at Hardy.

Finally, her patience snaps. It’s time to bug Hardy a bit.

“Look at us now.”

“Here it comes.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Go on.”

Ellie scoffs. “I sort of hope that a zombie bites you and I get to kill you.”

“Charming.”

“Knob.”

“Now that’s settled, tell me off for not sleeping. I guess that’s making your eyes tick now, isn’t it? So, come on, give me the lecture.”

“Bloody hell, Hardy! I let you come with me, didn’t I? Or at least, I can’t remember putting up a fight.”

“O— okay. Sorry.”

“Anyhow, you should be in bed, sleeping.”

“Argh, Miller!”

“Seriously, you spent the whole night out here, doing your rounds, and here we are again. If you drop with exhaustion, I won’t drag you back behind the fence, I swear.”

“You might not need to bother with that,” Hardy says in a morose voice, then promptly shoves Ellie aside— out of the approaching zombie’s way.

Ellie quickly realises their mistake. They were so busy arguing they stopped paying attention to their surroundings, which led straight to their stinky and growling company creeping upon them unnoticed. Now Hardy has to fight it back by hitting it on the head with his oar. Repeatedly.

“Harder, Hardy!” Ellie cheers from the side.

When Hardy manages to push the zombie with enough force to send it staggering backwards, right into a bush, Ellie steps forward and, applying the “stick them with the pointy end” method, puts the head of the harpoon through its left eye.

“See? The bread knife would have been a waste on this.”

It takes a bit of pulling to get the harpoon out of the eye socket, and Ellie ends up cracking the now twice dead zombie’s head open like a watermelon. She cleans the weapon on the grass just so.

“As I was saying before you interrupted me like the knob you are, look at us now. Never making it to the pub but killing time with killing zombies.”

“Bloody poetic.”

“Nothing poetic about you dying on me because you have a heart condition in a world without proper healthcare and— oh, yes, let’s see— without enough sleep!”

Much to her surprise, Ellie finds herself fuming with anger—but mostly she is annoyed with herself. Why did she let him accompany her in the first place? After everything they’ve gone through together (Danny’s murder, Joe’s trial, zombie apocalypse, losing Ellie’s dad due to said apocalypse, drastic changes in their living conditions etc.), being in Hardy’s company isn’t just easy—it has become a necessity for Ellie. He is a fixed point in her life, but if she wants him to stay that way, she shouldn’t be dragging him around all sleep-deprived and not fully functional. Even if Hardy, washed-up and insomniac Hardy, saved her life a mere minute ago, which was kind of… sexy.

Oh, gosh. Playing house with the Hardys must have really messed up her mind. Or hormones. Or both.

“Look, I know that our sleeping arrangements aren’t ideal,” she tries again, trying to keep at least her voice calm. “But of course, the situation could be worse. Three rooms for five people? Phew, what a luxury! I only suggested that Daisy should have her own room because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by bunking with her, her being at a sensitive age and whatnot— but maybe I was wrong. She’s a cool and very understanding kid, she would probably be okay with sharing a bed with me if I asked her.”

“But why would you want to share a bed with Daisy?” Hardy looks surprised and slightly offended, which is just grand, coming from him. If he wasn’t so glaringly uncomfortable by sharing not only an assigned shelter but a bed with Ellie, they wouldn’t need to have the whole conversation.

But fine, if he wants to play dumb, Ellie will spell it out for him.

“Because even though I managed to arrange us different schedules, so we can take turns at the bed, you’re still unable to sleep properly.”

“You arranged it?” Hardy splutters.

“Yes, but it doesn’t work, obviously.”

“If you don’t want to share a bed with me, why don’t you just say so?”

“No, _you_ don’t want to share a bed with me!”

“What?”

Now, they can either stand there and parrot ‘What?’ back and forth, or work themselves up for a shouting match, probably alerting a dozen zombies. Ellie goes for the latter—it might endanger them, but still, a good shouting works wonders on the nerves.

“Really, Hardy, don’t pretend that you haven’t been acting all awkward around me for— for who knows who long now!”

“Why, I haven’t been acting awkward! Not any more than usual.”

She only glances at him sharply, giving him three seconds to walk back on his words.

“Fine, but I’m only like this because I’m the last man on Earth— well, not literally, but almost— You know what I mean! We’re the last ones standing and you still—”

“And I still what, Hardy?” she asks sharply and there is a moment, as he squares his shoulders, when she thinks that he will dodge the question.

He does not.

“And you still don’t want me.” Hardy doesn’t say it in an accusing way; if anything, he sounds defeated. “I’m unable to sleep because you aren’t beside me.”

“Oh.”

“ _Oh_ indeed.”

Ellie opens her mouth but finds herself at a loss for words, so she shuts it. Time seems to stand still for them, waiting for her to find those words, those right words that are needed to be said. If only—

“It’s okay. I won’t pressure you into anything, I swear. It doesn’t have to change anything— well, apart from our sleeping arrangements.”

If only Hardy shut up instead of jumping the gun.

“Oi, Hardy! Give a girl a moment, will you? You kind of shattered my world here.”

“Did I?”

Suppressing the urge to reply with a witty remark, Ellie stops to think. Did the dead rising from their grave shatter her world? Yes. Did Hardy’s confession shake her? A bit, maybe.

“No, I suppose not,” she admits. “Quite the opposite, really. Things seem to click into place.”

“It’s not a murder investigation, it’s a love confession.”

“And it’s a very nice one.”

“Miller, you’re bloody unromantic.”

“Fine, I’ll show you romance.”

She would roll her eyes to emphasize her annoyance with him, but she is too busy placing a soft kiss on his lips— and find herself pleasantly surprised when Hardy pulls her closer and deepens the kiss.

“I can feel you smiling, you know,” he murmurs against her lips, but Ellie can hear a touch of smugness in his voice. Before she could deny it or plead guilty, Hardy kisses her, sneaking an arm around her waist.

Their sweet kissing is about to develop into passionate snogging; Ellie is grabbing the lapel of Hardy’s suit, to pull him closer— and can’t help but grin that damn, they’re surrounded by zombies and yet he seems to be glued into his suit. She’s about to drop the harpoon and hook her thus freed arm around his neck when it occurs to her that maybe they should relocate first.

“As much as I’m enjoying this,” she says, pulling away, “I don’t want to get devoured by a zombie in the middle of romancing you.”

Reluctantly, Hardy agrees.

“Oh, don’t look so grumpy. When we get back, I’ll make it up to you.”

“When we get— What will the kids say?”

“Probably something like ‘unbelievable’. An ‘I’m so happy for you’ would be nice, though.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. They’re teenagers, and we’re just their boring old parents.”

“Boring? Old? Looks like you’ll have some making up to do, _sir_.”

This time, when he dives in for a quick kiss, Hardy is the one who can’t help smiling into it.


End file.
